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Life ... is a taleTold by an idiot, full of sound and fury,Signifying nothing.

[Thou] mad mustachio purple-hued maltworms!

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.

Doubt thou the stars are fire;Doubt that the sun doth move;Doubt truth to be a liar;But never doubt I love .

So wise so young, they say, do never live long.

Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow.

...Who could refrain, That had a heart to love, and in that heart Courage to make love known?

I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me.

I’ll follow thee and make a heaven of hell,To die upon the hand I love so well.

Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake- its everything except what it is! (Act 1, scene 1)

Doubt thou the stars are fire;Doubt that the sun doth move;Doubt truth to be a liar;But never doubt I love.

My only love sprung from my only hate!Too early seen unknown, and known too late!Prodigious birth of love it is to me,That I must love a loathed enemy.